Write To Live
by aj81writing NO LONGER IN USE
Summary: AU/AH. Novelist Damon Salvatore is in trouble. He needs to finish his next novel in 30 days and hires a stenographer to help him. She, however, has some definite ideas on what he should be writing.
1. Introductions

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Ok, so yet another AU-fic… this one is based on the movie Alex & Emma (2003), which any aspiring writer should watch (in my opinion). The general plot will be the same; however, the story-within-the-story will be completely different. This is dedicated to XxVampireXLoverxX, who encouraged me to write a Delena fic based on Alex & Emma – which I got her to watch : ) _

_I'm a little nervous about this one, as I'm trying my hand at romantic comedy when I usually write romance/drama, and I'm not that funny… I hope you'll enjoy it just the same. : )_

_Oh, and just as a heads-up… I'm basing this on the movie, so the technology described here isn't up to today's standards. There is a reason why I haven't updated that aspect of the story… : )_

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><p>WRITE TO LIVE<p>

~ Introductions ~

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><p>Damon Salvatore ran a hand through his increasingly messy raven hair. His eyes were bloodshot from sleep deprivation and – to be honest – way too many tumblers of bourbon. He was in trouble. No, scratch that, he was in <em>big<em> trouble. Loaning that money had seemed like such a perfect plan – he would bet on the right team and he would walk away with big money. Instead, all he got was trouble. Big trouble.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

He looked up from his blank computer screen. Oh, crap. He quickly surveyed the room. Bathroom door – wouldn't lock. Kitchen – the stench in there would kill him before _they_ did. Fire escape… yeah, that would have to do.

He fiddled with the window latch, but it was jammed. Great. What's the point of _having_ a fire escape if you can't escape the apartment when there's a fire – or loan sharks beating down your door?

"Mr. Salvatore," a voice drawled.

Crap. Crap, crap, crap.

"Gentlemen," Damon acknowledged, straightening and turning around to face the three men who had just forcefully entered his apartment.

The man in the pinstriped suit brushed a speck of imaginary dirt off his sleeve and straightened his tie. "I do not appreciate having to come down here myself, but I hear from our friends that you have been most unwilling to settle your debt to us."

"Not at all, Mr. Shark," Damon said, walking over to his computer. "I am just finishing my next novel. My publisher will give me the money when I hand in my manuscript."

"When will that be?"

"Very soon. Like I said, it's only a matter of adding a few finishing touches at this point."

"Show me," he demanded.

"No. Uh… I mean, I would love to, but then I'd have to kill you," Damon said, chuckling.

His face fell instantly when he saw the murderous look in Mr. Shark's eyes. The two men flanking him – his henchmen Piranha 1 and 2 – were not-so-subtly revealing the guns in their holsters. These were not their real names, of course, just as the loan shark wasn't _really_ named Mr. Shark – that _would_ be appropriate, though… one might even say he had his career mapped out from infancy…

"Show me," Mr. Shark demanded again and Piranha 1 grabbed the laptop off Damon's desk, handing it over.

"I wasn't aware Microsoft had invented invisible fonts," Mr. Shark remarked dryly.

"Actually, it's a Mac… oh, ok, so it's not quite finished yet… but I have it all in my head, I just need a little more time to get it down on paper."

"No deal," Mr. Shark growled, which apparently was the cue for Piranha 1 and 2 to grab Damon and hold him out the window. Great, _now_ the darn thing opens…

"Thirty days! I'll double what I owe you. A hundred grand – you'll have a hundred grand in thirty days!" Damon offered as Piranha 1 and 2 dangled him by his ankles. It was a long way down to the street.

"Pull him up," Mr. Shark ordered and Damon could feel the floor under his feet again. Oh, how he had missed his floor…

"You have thirty days. If we come back here and you _don't_ have the money…"

"I'll have it."

"Good. Then I believe we're finished here," he snapped his fingers and Piranha 1 and 2 followed him towards the door. "Oh, and just so you won't be distracted…" Mr. Shark turned around. "Piranha 1 – the laptop."

"What? No, I need that to write!" Damon objected and flinched when a shot rang out and shattered the screen. A second shot splintered the keyboard, effectively shutting down the computer for good.

"Thirty days, Mr. Salvatore," Mr. Shark said over his shoulder as he left the small apartment.

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><p>Elena Gilbert looked at the address again and back up at the old brick building. This place sure didn't look like it would house a law office. It wasn't a bad neighborhood per se, just… unkempt. The lock on the front door was broken, so she pushed open the tarnished slim panel door and stepped inside the murky hallway.<p>

She opted for the stairs to take her to the 7th floor– she didn't trust the rickety old elevator. She didn't trust elevators, period.

Elena was in good shape, but she still found she needed to catch her breath before knocking on door number 703. She straightened her grey pencil skirt, her white blouse and adjusted her grey jacket. The case she was carrying felt heavy after her climb. She was used to lugging it around, though. The case held her stenotype machine and several rolls of steno paper.

Stenography was a dying profession, nowadays almost completely limited to court reporting, but she was good at it. Her temp agency sent her out to all kinds of places. Law firms, mostly. But this place definitely didn't look like a place of business – unless you were talking about funny business…

With another deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

She was slightly taken aback when a strikingly handsome man with piercing blue eyes opened the door, but quickly regained her focus.

"Is this the law offices of…" she took out her note again, "Ames, Kingsley, Austen & Hardy?"

"Yes, you've come to the right place," he smiled, "Damon Salvatore. Miss Gilbert, is it?" he said and stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in.

Elena took a few hesitant steps inside, looking around. The place was a mess. There were liquor bottles and takeaway cartons all over the place. The dishes in the small kitchen looked as though they hadn't been washed in weeks and there was a couch, table and arm chair littered with papers.

"I'm happy you could come with such short notice, Miss Gilbert. I…"

"How stupid do you think I am, Mr. Salvatore?" she frowned, staring him down with blazing brown eyes.

"I'm sorry?"

"This is _not_ a law office," she huffed.

"We're… remodeling," he offered.

"Oh, please," she rolled her eyes. "You don't think I understand what is going on here? You want sex, Mr. Salvatore. Well, you can just call another number. _I_ am not your girl," she said determined and strode back out the door.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, grabbing her arm.

"Unhand me!" she said fiercely.

"_Unhand_ you?" he raised his eyebrows, but let go of her arm. "Who says that?"

"Good day, Mr. Salvatore."

"Please. I really need your help."

"I can see that, but like I said, I'm not the person you're looking for."

"You _are_ a stenographer, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Here's the thing. I'm a writer. I have thirty days to finish a novel and I just can't type that fast. I need your professional assistance, that's all."

"Why should I believe a word you're saying?"

"I… wait… please, just hang on for one minute," he said and climbed a latter to a small loft. She could hear him rummaging and tapped her foot impatiently. He climbed back down and handed her a book. "There. Look at the picture on the back," he pointed to the cover.

Elena sighed and took the book. It _was_ him. Slightly better groomed, no five o'clock shadow, clear blue eyes without red flecks, no dark circles under his eyes, and shiny, coiffed hair, but it _was_ him.

"What's it about?" she asked, her eyes glued to the picture.

"It's about a man who fantasizes about all the ways he can kill his cheating wife."

Elena looked up at him with a questioning look in her eyes.

"It's a comedy," he shrugged.

"What's your next book about?"

"I don't know yet."

"You don't know? You want to finish a book in thirty days and you don't know what it's about?"

"I don't _want_ to finish a book in thirty days. I have to."

"Why?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Because if I don't, some not-so-nice men will introduce me to the barrel of a gun."

"You're serious?" Elena asked, wide-eyed.

"They might just throw me out the window," he shrugged, "but the end result will undoubtedly be the same."

Elena took another look around the dingy apartment, mulling over her decision. "I get paid by the end of each week," she said in a business-like tone.

"I can't pay you until the book is finished. I'll get paid when I hand in my manuscript."

"Assuming you finish…"

"Well, if I don't, I'll be sleeping with the fishes and you can help yourself to anything in my apartment."

Elena took another look around and crinkled her nose. "We should get started on that book of yours right away," she said and set down her case.


	2. Getting Started

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: Ok, so Damon's narration will be in extended italics. Sorry this is short. Enjoy!_

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><p>WRITE TO LIVE<p>

~ Getting Started ~

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><p>Elena sat down in the armchair, her fingers poised to start typing, awaiting his words. Silence. She looked up at the man sitting opposite her on the couch. He had a blank expression on his face.<p>

"Uh… I'm good to go, here…"

"Huh?" he blinked.

Elena gestured to her stenotype. "Ready."

"Oh… right… so… um…"

"You've got nothing," she sighed and leaned back in the chair.

"It's just… the beginning is the most important thing of a story – it's what draws the reader in. 'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife'," he quoted. "Pride and Prejudice," he added when he saw her puzzled expression.

"Um… yeah, I know. I'm just surprised you would read Jane Austen. Isn't it more of a girl's book?"

"It's a classical work of literature and a brilliant social comedy."

"Hey, no argument here," she threw up her hands. "So that's what you're going for… social comedy?"

"I'm thinking more along the lines of a 1940s mystery…"

"Straight up mystery or a parody of it?"

"Cheesy parody all the way."

"Ok, then. You have a first sentence?"

Five hours later.

"Read me back what we have so far," Damon said, pacing around the room.

"It was a hot, humid day and"

"It needs more…" Damon waved his hands, searching for the right word.

"Uh… yeah. More words, to begin with."

"It can't just be any words. They have to mean something."

"Well, how 'bout you shorten it. "It was a hot, humid day. Period. It gives you a full sentence and we can move on to the next. Maybe even a full paragraph."

Silence.

Elena could practically hear the hands of the clock on the wall ticking along. She started tapping lightly on the keyboard, not making any indentions on the steno paper, but making a sound loud enough to rival the clock's.

"Do you mind?"

"Listen, if you need some time to think this story through, I'll just be on my way," she said and started putting her machine back in its case.

"Will you be back tomorrow?"

"I don't see the point," she sighed. "I've been here for…" she checked her watch, "… six hours now. And you've got exactly _seven_ words. At this rate, we may have an entire page done at the end of thirty days. I have a feeling that's _not_ gonna be enough for your editor."

"_Derek Smythe had the weight of the world on his shoulders_… See? We're getting somewhere," Damon gestured to the couch.

Elena sighed and set the machine back on the table.

"_Derek Smythe had the weight of the world on his shoulders. The town of Mystic Falls was…"_

"I've never heard of that town," Elena interrupted.

"It's a small town in Virginia, lots of history, old antebellum architecture…"

"Never heard of it," Elena shrugged.

"I made it up."

"Go on," she said and repositioned her fingers.

"_The town of Mystic Falls was under siege. Al Capone had made it his favorite vacation spot…"_

"Wait."

"Now what?"

"I thought you said you made it up?"

"I did."

"But now you say Al Capone vacationed there."

"So?"

"So Al Capone was a real person. You can't have a real person visit a fake place. It's corrupting history."

"It's fiction."

_Al Capone had made it his favorite vacation spot, and he enjoyed both the refreshing mineral baths and the classy dames. He had invested money in practically all business establishments in town, and there was no telling who was on the right side of the law and who was not. Derek Smythe was the last hope this town had. If only business would pick up…_

_The sun had gone down, his secretary had gone home and Derek Smythe was just about to call it another worthless day when he heard the distinct clicking of women's heels approaching his office. He straightened in his chair and waited for the knock. It never came. Instead, the door slowly creaked open. _

_He reached for his Colt in the desk drawer but then he caught a glimpse of a shapely leg in black pumps and reconsidered. The dame that stepped into his office could only be described as a bombshell. Her flat hat was pinned on her head, showing off luscious dark curls underneath, and her high-slit black dress showed off her impressive stems. She smelt of sweet perfume, reminiscent of the alcoholic beverages served at his favorite establishment, and her red lips were practically begging to be kissed. Derek Smythe was in love. _

"Pfft," Elena scoffed.

"What?"

"He's in love? A stranger walks into his office with impressive legs and disgustingly sweet perfume and he's falling all over her? Is he desperate?"

"No. He's an attractive man, he can get any woman he wants."

"Then what's he doing sitting in his office alone?"

"He's worried about the state of his hometown."

"Why's he so desperate to protect it if he has nothing there to live for?"

"Who says he has nothing to live for?"

"You. Obviously he's a drunk, if he compares her perfume to sickly sweet liquor."

"Ok, it's been a long day. We'll pick this up again tomorrow."

"Ok," Elena said and packed up her stenotype. "What time tomorrow?"

"When do you get up?"

"When I have to."

"Seven o'clock, then?"

"I'll be here. Goodnight, Mr. Salvatore."

"You know, you could call me Damon…"

"Why?"

"Well, since we'll be working together the next thirty days, I think we could dispense with the formalities. Besides, you've already proven you have no qualms about butting into my creative process, so…" he shrugged.

"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow, Damon."

"Goodnight, Elena."


	3. Who's That?

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

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><p>WRITE TO LIVE<p>

~ Who's That? ~

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><p>Damon dragged himself out of bed when there was a knock on the door. Crap. His alarm didn't go off. He pulled on a pair of sweats and climbed down from the loft.<p>

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he groaned. His eyes were still slits as he unlocked the door and took off the safety chain.

"You don't look so great," Elena remarked as she stepped inside.

"A good morning to you too," Damon yawned and closed the door. "I overslept. Go ahead and set up and I'll get dressed."

Elena almost said 'don't bother on my account', but that would be highly inappropriate. Still, she would have to be blind to not notice the rippled abs and muscular arms of Damon Salvatore. His bed head hair completed the look of drool-worthy hunk. Elena shook her head. Focus, Gilbert, focus.

"You want coffee?"

"Huh?"

"Co-ffee," he enunciated.

"Um… Yes, please."

"So where did we leave off last night?" Damon asked as he handed her a cup of coffee a few minutes later, after having – unfortunately – put on a shirt and jeans.

"Derek Smythe was in love," Elena read from her typed-up notes.

"Right…"

_When she spoke, it was as though doves lifted from the ground and soared higher and higher…_

"High-pitched voice, huh?" Elena remarked casually, her eyes on the keyboard. Damon ignored her and continued.

"_Detective Smythe. I have a case for you."_

"_Please, come on in, miss…?"_

"_Kat. Kitty Kat."_

"_Miss Kat?"_

"_It's my stage name. I sing at Club Mystique."_

"_Club Mystique? Capone's favorite joint?"_

"_Yes."_

"_What seems to be the problem, miss Kat?"_

"_Please, call me Kitty," she purred and extended her gloved hand, a sparkling diamond on her ring finger._

"_That's a big rock," he remarked. _

"_Oh, yes, it was a gift…"_

"_What is it that you need my assistance with, Miss… um… Kitty?"_

"_I am in horrible debt," she sighed and flopped down in the seat opposite his desk, crossing her long stems in such a way that Derek Smythe was thankful there was indeed a desk between them. _

"Gross," Elena huffed.

_He waited patiently for the distraught dame to continue her story. _

"_My boss, Klaus Coffin, loaned me some money when I was behind on my rent, and now he's making me work for him until my debt's paid. __I will never be able to pay him back. He owns me, Mr. Smythe."_

"_I'm sorry to hear that, Miss, but I don't…"_

"_I think he's cooking the books. If I can get proof of that, I could make him set me free."_

"_You're talking about blackmail here?"_

"_Believe me, if there was another way… but there isn't. I am supposed to marry him next month, unless I can find something by then, I'll be lost forever…" she let out a sniffle. "It is just so… hopeless," she said and broke down in tears. _

_He quickly found a relatively un-used handkerchief and held it out to her. She took it gratefully and wiped her tears away. _

"_Will you help me?" she said in a broken voice, looking up at him with big, blue eyes._

_How could he resist such a face? Such a dame? He would gladly lay down his life – at the very least his suit jacket – to keep her… _

"What now?" Damon sighed when he caught Elena rolling her eyes as she typed.

"Nothing. Go on. I didn't say anything."

"Something's clearly bothering you, and I have a feeling you'll sulk until you get it off your chest."

"I'm just… he seems awfully shallow, that's all."

"He's not shallow!"

"Oh no? He'll lay down his life for a woman he just met because she's got a pretty face? Sounds like the definition of shallow to me."

"It's just the type of guy he is."

"How do you know what kind of guy he is?"

"I have a picture of him in my mind, a rough draft, if you will."

"And in your draft, he's _not_ shallow? Too bad your readers will get that impression."

"They'll get to know him eventually."

"Why would they want to?"

"Fine, how 'bout this…"

_There was something so innocent about her, sitting there sobbing ever so softly, that struck a chord with him. He was filled with an overpowering need to protect this gentle flower, to lay down his life if necessary. Besides, this was also a unique opportunity to get close to Klaus Coffin and __perhaps find out the truth about his dealings with Capone. _

"_I will take the job, Miss Kitty. Rest assured I will not rest until you are free."_

"_Thank you, Mr. Smythe," she whimpered, drying the last of her tears, and stood up, holding out his handkerchief. _

_Although the thought of having but a small part of her in his pocket, the smudges of her mascara had soiled the small piece of fabric to such an extent that he thought it best to decline her offer. _

"_You keep it," he said with a sympathetic smile. _

_As Miss Kitty Kat sashayed out of his office, Derek Smythe was feeling a whole lot better about his lot in life. _

"Did you have your breakfast?" Damon asked, getting off the couch.

"I did, thank you."

"Good. I only have cereal, anyways…" he mumbled, looking through his cupboards. He opened the small fridge door and got out a carton of milk, sniffed it, crinkled his nose and put it back.

"_Derek Smythe," the high-pitched, disapproving voice pierced his eardrums as she walked into his office without knocking, as per usual. _

"_Elka," he acknowledged her presence. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" _

"Elka? What kind of name is that?"

"It's a popular woman's name in Bulgaria."

"Who's she?"

"She's an annoying secretary that's been with him for years."

"_I found your bottles in my waste bin again," she said with her hands on her hips. "You've been drinking in the office again, haven't you?"_

"_What's it to you?"_

"_This is a place of business, Mr. Smythe. Not a very successful business, but a business just the same."_

"_Well, things are about to change, Elka. We've landed ourselves a new client."_

"_I did not see anyone come in here yesterday… or the day before that… or the day before that…"_

"_It was after hours."_

"_I see… we've gone into business with the shady elements of this town. I was foolish to think you would resist."_

"_I don't owe you any explanations, Elka. But no, we have not gone into business with any shady characters."_

"_Then why did they come to the office after hours? Are you sure you were not hallucinating?"_

_Derek rolled his eyes. "I'm sure."_

_Surely he hadn't imagined the alluring creature that had walked into his office – and his life – late last night?_

Damon paused in his dictation and stretched his arms.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"If I say 'no', will that stop you?"

"Not really."

"Then by all means – go ahead."

"Why didn't you describe Elka's appearance like you did Kitty's?"

"Because she's not important to the story. She's a secretary."

"Why introduce a character that's not important?"

"Maybe down the line she will be, I don't know. Right now, what she looks like isn't important, because he doesn't see her as anything but a busybody secretary."

"That's stereotypical."

"And what part of this story isn't?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Ok, then," she shrugged.

Damon leaned back in his seat, chewing absentmindedly on a pencil for inspiration to reappear. "You know what? It's not stereotypical enough. Strike the last paragraph."

_Derek Smythe walked into his office at 9 am sharp. He had stopped at his favorite bar on his way home last night and the sun was not his friend at the moment. He gruffed a greeting to his secretary and headed into his __private office. _

_Being the sympathetic secretary that she was, she soon appeared with a pitcher of black coffee and a handful of aspirin. She poured him a cup and hopped up on his desk, crossing her long, sun kissed legs, thereby hiking up her short skirt to reveal a good part of her thigh and tossed her blonde hair to one side as she held out his cup._

"_Rough night, Detective Smythe?" she asked sympathetically. _

_He smiled at her and with a hand on her knee, replied, "Well, Elsa, let me tell you…"_

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Elena stopped him. "_Elsa_?"

"Yeah, it's Swedish."

"I thought she was Elka, the Bulgarian."

"That was before I turned her into a sexy secretary – what's more stereotypical than a sexy Swedish secretary?"

"Uh… Swedish flight attendant?"

"Yeah, there's that, of course," he smiled.

"Because all Swedish women are sexy, airhead blondes?"

"What? You've never heard of the Swedish sin? I Am Curious (Yellow)*?"

"No."

"Wow. You've clearly been missing out."

"Ok, so last night he was dazzled by this dark-haired beauty and this morning he's putting his hands on his secretary? Do you _want_ your readers to think he's a shallow skirt-chaser?"

"Ok, fine, we'll go middle ground here. She's a brunette, mousy American named… Emma. Does that work for you?"

"It's your story," Elena shrugged.

"Somehow I think that's not entirely true," he sighed.

_Emma looked up from her desk when Derek entered the office the following morning. She smiled her sweet, timid smile he had grown so accustomed to seeing each morning, and handed him his messages. There was only one. 'Call your father'. He crumpled the paper and dropped it in the bin. The paper hit one of the empty bottles from last night and bounced back out. He bent down to pick it up, but so did Emma, and they wound up butting heads._

_The impact sent shockwaves akin to earthquake tremors through his head. He had really had too much to drink last night at Ric's Bar._

"_Ow," he groaned._

"_Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Smythe," Emma said quickly._

"_Please, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Derek, Emma?" he said tiredly._

"_Can I get you something… Derek?"_

"_A couple of aspirins would be nice. And coffee. Make it strong, will you? We have a new case."_

"_Really?" she started leafing through her papers. "I didn't see…"_

"_A client came in late last night."_

"_That's great news, Derek."_

"_Yeah, it is. Hopefully it will pay well, too."_

"_Oh, that reminds me. I managed to get an extension on our loan payments. Money's tight, but we'll stay afloat for another couple of months."_

"_That's really great, Emma. Thank you."_

_A blush crept up on her cheeks and she looked down at her desk. "You're welcome," she mumbled and Derek retreated to his office._

_It was only seven o'clock, but Derek decided to go down to Club Mystique to scout out the joint before the nightlife got started. _

_He walked up to the bartender and ordered himself a bourbon neat. He might as well look as though he belonged. Besides, he was thirsty._

"_You're here early," the bartender commented. He was a young man in his mid-20s with blonde hair and that corn-fed Iowa boy look about him. "The show doesn't start until nine."_

"_Oh, yeah? What kind of show? It is any good?"_

"_The girls here are top-notch. They waitress until their slot comes up, and then they go into full diva-mode."_

"_All your performers waitress?"_

"_All except for Kitty. She's the boss' girlfriend, and the star act. The whole club stops when she's on stage. She's got a set of pipes that can't be denied. A set of other assets too, if you get my drift," he added in a stage whisper._

"_Oh, I do," Derek smiled knowingly._

_Derek found himself a seat in one of the leather chairs with a perfect view of the stage. People started dropping in – a predominantly male clientele, he noted. It was starting to look more like a gentlemen's club by the minute._

_He casually tilted his head back and saw a door marked 'Private' just to the side of the stage. Could that be Klaus Coffin's office? Or the girls' changing room? Important questions, both._

"_Please put your hands together for…" a man in a broad pinstriped suit announced, "… the Care Bears."_

_A round of applause filled the room much like the heavy smell of cigars. Two blondes walked out on stage in military style pencil skirts and blouses and swing music started playing. _

"_Excuse me," Derek said to the waitress who was currently refilling his tumbler. "Who are they?"_

"_Oh, that's Caroline and Lexi. They've been performing here for a couple of years now. My brother, the bartender," she nodded towards the blond guy, "he's sweet on Caroline, but she's a bit of a snob. She want more in life, she says," the waitress rolled her eyes. "She really thinks she's going to be discovered by some record producer and live a glamorous Hollywood life. Pfft," she scoffed, "the only way that girl's going to the top is if she goes down…"_

_Derek smiled at the chatterbox. He had just found the perfect informant. He had a feeling this girl could prove _very _useful to him. _

"_What's your name, doll?" he said sweetly._

"_Vicki," she giggled, blushing from his favorable attention. _

"_You seem like a really bright girl, Vicki. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind joining me for the evening? I tip well, of course. I'm just new to this place and I find it intriguing. I would love to hear what you have to say."_

"_Well, my shift will be over in about twenty minutes, so… I suppose I could stick around for awhile."_

"_Excellent," he smiled._

_Derek leaned back in his plush leather armchair and observed. The two blondes did another set before the MC reappeared and announced the second act of the evening. _

"_All the way from a little jazz club in Paris… give it up for Mademoiselle Belle."_

_The stage lights went off and a screen of smoke appeared. It dissipated to reveal a dark-haired beauty in fishnet stockings and short black shorts worn with a tight fitted black vest sat straddling a black café-chair. Her black hat covered most of her features as her head was tilted down, waiting for the music to start._

"_French my ass," Vicki huffed as she flopped down on the armrest of Derek's chair. "Pardon my French," she added with a laugh. "That's Anna, she's an American like the rest of us."_

"_She certainly has an exotic look," Derek observed as the young woman's head suddenly flew up and she began singing in a husky, sultry voice. _

"_Part Chinese, or something," Vicki waved her hand dismissively. "But she ain't French, I can tell you that."_

"_Has she been here long?" _

"_Nah, a year or so. Apparently, her mom owed the boss man some money and traded in her daughter. Classy, huh?"_

"_Is that so?"_

"_Yeah. Kitty used to have that part – you know, before she went and got herself a promotion."_

"_Promotion?"_

"_The boss man took a shine to her. Suddenly only high-class gigs were good enough for Kitty. You should see the jewelry he has her decked out in. Straight from the big boss' safe, I'm sure." _

"_The big boss?" Derek said, sipping his drink to keep up his casual-interest act. _

"_Yeah, you know, the…"_

"_Vicki, sweetheart," a man's voice drawled. "Whatcha doin' here still? Didn't I tell you to call it a night?"_

_Derek looked up at the new arrival. Klaus Coffin. If Derek had a dictionary, and that dictionary had pictures in it, you would find a picture of this guy next to the word 'seedy-club-owner-with-mobster-aspirations'. You know, if there was such a word. _

_His blond hair, occasionally seen in curly disarray in paparazzi photos – those that made it as far as the paper before getting chopped up into little bits. The pictures, not the paparazzi, of course. Those ended up in much bigger bits. Where was I? Oh, yeah, the hair. It was slicked back with some sort of Vaseline, making his serpent-like green eyes and slightly bumpy forehead all the more prominent. _

_Derek had once heard the remark that Klaus Coffin had 'cute dimples'. Whoever said that was swimming with the fishes these days. _

_He was wearing a white, double-breasted suit with a blood red carnation pinned on his lapel and a matching handkerchief in his jacket pocket. _

_Vicki was suddenly skittish and practically flew off the armrest. "I was just leaving, boss."_

"_That's my girl," he smiled. "We want you well-rested if you're gonna be singing tomorrow."_

"_Me? Singing?" she lit up. "Really?"_

"_I think you've earned it, kiddo. I'm making the Care Bears a trio."_

"_But… my hair," Vicki objected, suddenly fretting about not fitting in with the others. _

"_You're going blonde, kiddo," Klaus answered with a grin. "After all, blondes have more fun…"_

"_Oh, yes! Thank you, boss!" Vicki squealed. _

"_Well, run along now. Go see Carol at Original Beauty Salon before work tomorrow. Tell her I sent you and she'll take real good care of you."_

"_Thank you, thank you," Vicki repeated and scurried off. _

"_I don't believe we've met," Klaus said to Derek, who stood up to extend his hand._

"_Derek Smythe, Mr. Coffin."_

"_Smythe…" he nibbled at a tooth pick while mulling the name over. "You're a P.I, aren't you?"_

"_I'm off duty at the moment," Derek shrugged._

"_Glad to hear it," Klaus smiled. "Then I guess you won't need to be talking to my girls."_

"_Oh, you mean Vicki? What a doll. I'm new to this place, as you know, and I was just getting some tips on what drinks to order and alike."_

"_Sounded more like you were interested in what's going on back stage."_

"_With such lovely dames all around, one can't help but wonder what it's like in the dressing rooms," he smirked. _

_Klaus laughed, a hollow and fake laugh, and slapped Derek's shoulder. "One can wonder all one wants."_

"I think we're good for today," Damon said and went to pour himself a drink.

"Ok," Elena said, gathering her things. "I really should get going, anyways."

"Hot date?"

Elena rolled her eyes. "None of your business."

"You have a boyfriend you need to get home to?" he joked.

"I… yes."

"Oh."

Was that disappointment?

"Been together long?" he said casually, sipping his drink.

"A couple of years now."

"I see. Has he popped the question yet?"

"He has."

"So you're engaged? I don't see a ring."

"We're getting engaged in a couple of weeks."

"Well, I won't keep you, then."

"Good. So… um… I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Good night."

"Good night."

* * *

><p><em>* Original title <em>_"Jag är nyfiken – gul", which, for the record, I have __**not**__ seen. Look it up on Wikipedia if you're curious…_


	4. The Plot Thickens

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: First of all, thank you for all your lovely reviews. Obviously, I won't be writing an entire novel (as Damon is supposed to), so there will be a couple of gaps here and there, in which you can assume some very brilliant writing takes place and lots of amazing descriptions are formulated etc. : ) You'll still be able to follow the story, though, just not every single word of it, because if I actually had the skills to write a bestselling novel, I'd be doing that right about now… : ) Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>WRITE TO LIVE<p>

~ The Plot Thickens ~

* * *

><p>"<em>How did it go last night?<em>_" Emma asked as she handed Derek a cup of much needed coffee._

"_I had a run-in with Klaus Coffin."_

"_Oh."_

"_No need to worry, it was a civil enough chat."_

"_Do you have an idea on how to get close to him?"_

"_I'm more interested in getting close to Miss Kitty Kat."_

"_What kind of name is that?" she scoffed._

"_A well-deserved one," Derek drawled. _

"_Your father called again," she said, handing over a note. It met the same fate as the previous one._

"_You know, we could save a lot of money on paper if you'd just call him," Emma remarked._

"_And I could save a lot more money if I wasn't paying your salary," Derek retorted in a warning tone. _

_Emma was not so easily deterred. "Not that much," she muttered before going back over to her desk._

"She's sassy, I like her," Elena said as Damon took a pause to take a sip from his water bottle.

"She's annoying," Damon said plainly.

"Well, he clearly needs someone to keep him in check."

"How do you figure?"

"Well, he clearly has a drinking problem. He's behind on his rent and loan payments. If he didn't have Emma, he probably wouldn't even have electricity.

"So Emma's better than Elsa, then?"

"Definitely."

"What was your issue with Elsa?"

"She had no self-respect, throwing herself at her boss like that."

"Because a woman can't be aggressive? Can't be interested in someone she works with?"

"Works _for_," Elena corrected him. "It's a professional relationship between employer and employee. They're not equals and so any romantic entanglement would be… foolish."

"Are you saying you feel inferior to your employers?"

"I… this isn't about me. Your story is set in a different time when those lines were even clearer," she said and paused. "I just wanted to say I like Emma's character, that's all."

"Ok, then. Let's keep going, shall we?"

* * *

><p><em>The following night, Derek took a different approach to his investigation. He put on his favorite trench coat and hat and parked his car outside Club Mystique, waiting patiently for Vicki to finish her set.<em>

_After hours in an increasingly uncomfortable seat, three blondes exited the club through the back door. Derek watched as the two natural blondes, Caroline and Lexi, went on their merry way, arm in arm, while bleached blonde Vicki headed in the opposite direction, pulling her coat tightly around her to shield her from the cold night air. _

_Derek pulled up beside her. "Hey there, doll. Do you remember me from the club last night?"_

_She was about to roll her eyes and keep going, but for some reason she turned her head and met his gaze. Who could forget those eyes?_

"_Yeah, I remember," she said, chewing her gum and twirling her hair. _

"_I like you as a blonde," he said. "But you looked good as a brunette, too."_

"_Thanks."_

"_So, can I offer you a lift home?"_

"_Uh…" she looked around, not another car in sight. "Sure," she said and got into the passenger seat._

"Airhead bimbo," Elena muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"A stranger offers her a ride and she accepts, just because he has pretty eyes?"

"Moving on."

"_So__, how'd it go tonight?" Derek asked as they started driving. "It was your first night singing with the Care Bears, wasn't it?"_

"_It went ok. Caroline is _such_ a snob," Vicki rolled her eyes. "She thinks she's _so_ much better than everyone else. Can you believe she told me I should stick to waitressing? I bet she was just jealous that I was getting all the applause." _

"_Did your boss like your performance?"_

"_He was busy with Kitty."_

"_Oh?"_

"_Yeah, she was _all_ over him. It's really pathetic."_

"_Is the boss at the club every night?"_

"_Yeah, it's like his second home… or his first… he has an apartment upstairs. I've never been there myself, but I hear it's real 'boss'."_

"_Does he get many visitors? Like… business acquaintances?"_

"_Why are you so interested in the boss' business?" Vicki narrowed her eyes at him. _

_Maybe she wasn't as ditzy as she looked…_

"_I'm a curious person, that's all," Derek shrugged._

"_My mom always said Curiosity killed the cat. Personally, I think it was our crazy neighbor…" she mused. _

_Ok, so maybe he didn't have to worry too much about this one._

* * *

><p>"<em>Another late night?" Emma said as Derek entered the office, dark circles under his eyes. <em>

"_Part of the job," he shrugged._

"_How's the case coming?"_

"_Not great. It seems Klaus Coffin lives at the club, meaning I'd have to get into his office right under his nose to even get a glimpse of the books."_

"_Did you get anywhere with that waitress? Did she know anything?"_

"_She likes to gossip, I can tell you that… but I don't think I can trust her. I need to talk to Kitty again, but I don't know how to get in touch with her unless she shows up here. Klaus Coffin appears quite smitten with her. It's unlikely that he'll let anyone get close to her when he's around."_

"_What about the other girls at the club? Do you think any of them might know something?"_

"_Maybe… but I don't know how to get close to any of them. Coffin made it perfectly clear he didn't appreciate me chatting up his girls."_

"_So what's the plan? Sit and wait for Kitty Kat to show up?"_

"_Yes. But in the meantime, Vicki invited me over to her place tomorrow night. It's her night off and she expressed an interest in spending it with me."_

"_You mean she threw herself at you?" Emma frowned._

"_It wouldn't be the first time," Derek shrugged. _

_Emma rolled her eyes._

Elena rolled her eyes. "So, I was right… he _is_ a skirt chaser," she sighed.

"What? What give you that idea?"

"He's going to sleep with Vicki, isn't he?"

"Did I say that?"

"No, but it's pretty much implied."

"Maybe you're not a very good analyst."

* * *

><p><em>Vicki lived with her brother in a small, run-down house on the outskirts of Mystic Falls, right next door to the trailer park, and it took a good twenty minutes or so to drive over there. Derek saw the smoke about five minutes before he arrived at the scene. <em>

_It was too late. If anyone had been inside, there would be nothing left of them now. And Derek knew Vicki had been in there, waiting for _him_. Her brother was working tonight, which was why she had invited him over. He drove back to the ERT* he had seen on his way there and alerted the Mystic Falls fire department and sheriff's office. Not that either would turn on their sirens for this. _

_Coffin pretty much owned this town and its people. If Vicki's house went up in smoke, it was because _he_ wanted it to. Derek couldn't help but feel responsible. Someone must have seen them together when he drove her home – or Vicki said something about their plans for tonight. _

_In either case, this was a message. A bright, roaring bonfire of a message. _

_His suspicions were confirmed when the report came days later and said that the building's old wiring caused the fire. In reality, all the old wiring had been replaced the year before, when Kelly Donovan, Matt and Vicki's mom, was dating a licensed electrician. _

* * *

><p><em>Derek Smythe was fresh out of ideas, fresh out of leads, and the contents of his refrigerator smelled anything <em>but_ fresh. He had started on his third tumbler of scotch for the evening and his vision was getting dimmer and dimmer when there was a knock on the door. _

_Whoever it was, they were persistent, and Derek moseyed over to the door, groaning "I'm coming, I'm coming."_

_He flung open the door to catch Kitty Kat mid-knock and his bloodshot eyes widened at the sight. She looked every bit as alluring as the night she first showed up at his office, but much less composed. She was skittish, looking over her shoulder and fidgeting nervously. _

"_Miss Kitty," Derek exclaimed in surprise. "What brings you to my door at this hour?"_

"_I tried your office, but it was closed. May I come in?"_

"_Sure," he said and held the door open for her, making a sweeping gesture of invitation towards the one-bedroom apartment. _

"_I hope you'll forgive the mess… I wasn't expecting company," Derek said apologetically._

"_No worries, I like a man with… uh…" Kitty looked around the room, strewn with papers and folders, "…with an appreciation of good alcohol. Mind if I…?" she gestured to the bottle of scotch on the coffee table. _

"_Sure. Hang on, I'll get you a glass."_

"_No trouble," Kitty said and unscrewed the bottle, putting it to her luscious red lips and taking a swig. _

"Wow…classy," Elena muttered sarcastically.

_Derek __was slightly taken aback by Kitty's unladylike behavior, but who was he to judge?_

"_Did something happen, Miss Kitty?" he frowned._

"_I heard Vicki running her mouth as usual, and so did Klaus. He wasn't happy she was going to meet up with you."_

"_Did you hear him order the fire?"_

"_No. But I know he did. What happened to Vicki – that's gonna happen to me if he finds out I went to see you."_

"_Why'd you risk it tonight?"_

"_He had too much to drink, and he passed out. I might have slipped something in his drink, too…" Kitty shrugged and took another swig from the bottle. _

_Derek gently removed the scotch from her grip. "Please, won't you have a seat?" he gestured to the couch, which he had quickly cleared of papers and various food containers. _

_Kitty sat down, but quickly got back up again. "I can't stay long. He'll wake up soon."_

"_Listen, Kitty, I need something more to go on… a way to get into Coffin's office."_

"_I don't know…" Kitty raked a hand through her tousled hair. "He's… occupied… for a while after the club closes, when everyone's gone home and he's locked the money in the safe, we go upstairs… but I can't get you a key."_

"_I'll take care of that, don't you worry. But… does he have any type of surveillance? Can you hear anything that goes on in the club from his apartment?"_

"_I can be… loud," Kitty blushed. "He won't hear anything. But I need to know in advance when you're going to break in…"_

Damon stretched his arms. "I think we're good for today."

"Ok," Elena said and started packing up her stenotype. "Hey, do you mind if I bring over some groceries? I'm craving some actual food."

"What? You don't like Chinese?" Damon nodded towards the empty cartons of take-out.

"For breakfast, lunch and dinner? Not every single day, no."

"Sure, bring whatever you like," Damon shrugged. "I'll… clean out the fridge."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. See you tomorrow, then?"

"Ok. Good night, Damon."

"Good night."

* * *

><p>"What? Are you trying to feed an army here?" Damon laughed as he helped Elena stock the fridge and cabinets.<p>

"I like food."

"Right…"

"Ok, so _maybe_ I thought you could use a home cooked meal once in awhile…"

"You want to cook for me?"

"Well, I'm not the _best_ cook in the world, but I think I can handle Chicken Parmesan."

"What makes you think I can't cook?"

"Uh… the fact that you have _nothing_ edible in your fridge or cabinets, and that your apartment is littered with take-out cartons?" Elena raised an eyebrow.

"I've been busy lately," Damon shrugged.

"Yeah… busy drinking," Elena muttered under her breath.

"So, you're ready to get started?"

"Sure. I'll just unpack."

* * *

><p>"<em>To tell the truth, I'm worried about him."<em>

"_Worried about whom?" Derek said, suddenly appearing in front of Emma's desk. She quickly finished her phone call and looked up at him. _

"_How are you?"_

"_What's going on, Emma?"_

"_I was just…"_

"_Who was that on the phone?"_

"_No-one."_

"_Emma…"_

"_My aunt, ok? I was talking to her about my brother."_

"_Jeremy? Why?"_

"_He's in trouble… he's gotten into some debt and I suspect he's gotten involved with the mob."_

"_How?"_

"_I don't know exactly, but he was dating this girl and said something about trying to raise money to get her out of her contract. I guess he took to gambling and lost big."_

"_Do you know the name of the girl?"_

"_Anna… something. Her mother, Pearl, got into debt herself and she basically pawned her daughter."_

"_She's working at Club Mystique," Derek said quietly, mulling this new information over. _

"_What? Klaus Coffin has her?" Emma's eyes widened._

"_Don't worry, Emma. I'll get her out. I'll get all of them out. All I have to do is sneak in and get to Coffin's books. If I can prove he's up to something crooked, the FBI will get involved and shut him down."_

"_You have a plan to get into his office?"_

"_Kitty came to see me last night. She's promised to keep Coffin busy while I get into the club."_

"_And you trust her?"_

"_She has nothing to gain by double-crossing me," Derek shrugged._

* * *

><p><em>*ERT = Emergency Roadside Telephone<em>


	5. Dinner and a Show

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p>WRITE TO LIVE<p>

~ Dinner and a Show ~

* * *

><p>"I think she's going to double-cross him," Elena said, determined, as she was prepping the chicken in the small kitchen. She noticed Damon had tidied up the place, done the dishes and put them away, giving her enough counter space to work.<p>

"Oh? What makes you say that?" Damon said, lounging against the doorway to the kitchen, his arms crossed and an amused look on his face.

"She's not?"

"I don't know yet."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Well, the characters basically tell the story themselves at this point. If Kitty double-crosses Derek, it's because she has her reasons for doing it."

"I don't get it. Aren't you in control of your own story?"

"My job is to breathe life into my characters. What they choose to do with that life is up to them."

"Huh…" Elena mulled this over.

"So… you cook for your boyfriend, too?" Damon said, observing her as she turned the fillets in a mixture of eggs and milk, covering them with breadcrumbs and spices.

"Who?" Elena said, absentmindedly.

"Your boy-friend," Damon enunciated. "The guy you're getting engaged to?"

"Oh… right. Um… no, not really."

"So I'm special?" Damon cocked an eyebrow.

"Don't flatter yourself," Elena rolled her eyes and put the fillets in a pan, browning them before putting them into a baking dish. She sliced up the mozzarella and placed the slices on top of the chicken breasts, poured a jar of spaghetti sauce over it and sprinkled parmesan cheese on top.

Damon's gaze lingered on the curve of her derriere as Elena bent down to put the dish in the oven. He quickly looked away, though, as she straightened and turned towards him.

"It's gonna be another 30 minutes or so. Do you want to keep working?"

"Yeah. Sure."

* * *

><p><em>Derek walked into Club Mystique around ten. The club was already buzzing and <em>_cigar smoke lay thickly in the air. He was going to give Kitty the signal tonight, letting her know what needed to be done. He would rather not ponder what distracting Coffin entailed. _

_He strolled up to the bar and ordered a bourbon neat. Matt wasn't working, but that was to be expected. Apparently, after Vicki's demise, he had taken off. Who could blame the guy? _

_Derek found a seat close to the stage and waited for the main act to begin. However, the announcer came on to introduce a different act. _

"_Gentlemen, for your viewing and listening pleasure, here are the Care Bears…" he made a sweeping gesture and disappeared off the stage as three blondes took their places. _

_Derek's gaze wandered along their stocking-clad stems, up to the spot just below their short skirts where the garters were showing. Clearly, the group was going for the pin-up experience, with their bustiers and Victory Rolls. _

_Derek's jaw dropped when his gaze reached the face of the third member of the Care Bears. What the…?_

"So who was it?" Elena asked when Damon suddenly rose from his seat and walked over to the kitchen.

"I think the chicken's ready," he said, opening the oven door.

"Damon!"

"What? It smells delicious."

"I want to know what happens next."

"Well, then I guess I've succeeded, haven't I?"

"What do you mean?" she said, her eyes narrowed.

"You're hooked."

"I'm not hooked. I'm just… curious."

"And I'm hungry. Grab the plates, will you?"

Elena sighed and went over to take the plates from him to set them on the living room table.

"Did you ever consider getting a proper table?" she said as she flopped down on the couch with her plate.

"I never saw the point, I suppose," Damon shrugged and sat down in the arm chair opposite her.

"What about having friends over? Or dates?"

"Who says I date? Or have friends?" he said with a mischievous grin.

Elena rolled her eyes.

"I haven't lived here for too long," Damon shrugged and dug into his pasta and chicken. "This is good."

"Thank you," Elena said. "So… where did you live before?"

"Elsewhere," Damon said and sipped his wine.

"Ok…" Elena said. Clearly not something he wanted to talk about.

"Did you always want to be a writer?" Elena said after a moment's silence.

"When I was little, I wanted to be a detective," Damon smiled.

"Really?" Elena raised her eyebrows, feeling a giggle coming on.

"Yeah. I would have my brother be the victim, and then I would question the staff where they were when he was murdered."

Elena laughed, then caught herself. "Wait – _staff_?" His apartment didn't exactly scream 'old money' – or any kind of money, to be exact.

"Yeah, my dad's this hotshot attorney. He doesn't approve of my 'lifestyle' as he calls it," Damon rolled his eyes at the air quotes.

"You mean the 'starving author' life?"

"Hey, I'm not exactly starving, now am I?" he winked and gestured to the food in front of them.

"So… you wanted to be a detective when you were a kid, and you have a strained relationship with your father… is that where you're getting Derek Smythe's character from?"

"Every writer draws something from experience," Damon shrugged.

"So… is there a Kitty?" Elena asked casually, picking at her plate.

"You mean is there a night club singer involved with a mobster who's asked me to save her? No. She's an amalgam – a compilation of women I've come across in my life."

"You've met a lot of women like Kitty Kat?" Elena raised her eyebrows.

"I've met a _lot_ of women, Elena," Damon wiggled his eyebrows and laughed at her annoyed expression.

* * *

><p><em>Derek's jaw dropped. Up there on stage, singing her little heart out, was his mousy secretary, dressed in very little and wearing what must be a blonde wig. <em>

"_Damn it, Emma," he muttered under his breath. He didn't wait for Kitty to come on stage before taking off. He drove his car over to his secretary's apartment and parked a block away from her building. He was not taking any chances this time. Someone might have seen him drop Vicki off… Derek shuddered, and not just because of the cold. _

_He walked over to the building and into the small foyer. The front door wasn't locked and there was no doorman on watch. If someone wanted to hurt her…. He sat down on the rickety stairs with his elbows on his knees and waited._

_He had just about dozed off when the front door creaked open and his head flew up at the sound._

_Emma let out a yelp of surprise at his haggard form slumped on her staircase. "Derek!" she gasped. "You scared me."_

"_What on earth do you think you're doing, Emma?" Derek said and rose from his uncomfortable position, feeling his bones pop back into place as his legs and back straightened._

"_What I do on my personal time is none of your business, Derek," she said and brushed past him, heading up the old staircase, her gloved hand tracing the tarnished banister._

_Derek stood and watched her tread up the stairs for a moment before stomping after her._

_Emma did not appear surprised, merely annoyed, at the intrusion. She walked over to her door and unlocked it, glancing over her shoulder to glare at him. "It's late," she said in a low, disapproving voice._

"_So you would not wish to wake your neighbors by arguing with me in the hallway," he said simply._

_Emma sighed and held open the door, gesturing for him to come inside before she changed her mind. She sat down her purse, from which a golden lock was protruding, on a table by the door and shrugged out of her coat._

"_You're a brunette again," Derek noted as she removed her hat and let her long chocolate hair fall down around her shoulders._

"_Disappointed?" she raised an eyebrow._

"_Not at all. Blonde is a horrible look on you."_

"_You're quite the charmer, Mr. Smythe," she mocked and walked into her kitchen. "Coffee?"_

_Derek felt how tired he was and realized he would probably fall asleep on his way home if he didn't get some sort of stimulant in his system. "Yes, please."_

"_Did you enjoy the show?" she asked casually._

"_Emma!"_

"_What?"_

"_Why would you start working for Coffin of all people?"_

"_I'm not," she sighed. "I'm working for you."_

"_For me?"_

"_And for my brother. I figure the sooner we get the dirt on Coffin, the sooner my brother's girl will be free of him, and the sooner he'll be out of debt."_

"_I was handling it," Derek growled._

"_You were putting your faith in a woman called Kitty Kat. Forgive me if I have my doubts about her competence," Emma rolled her eyes._

"_I was going to break in there tonight. This was all going to be over by tomorrow."_

"_And what if it wasn't? What if she sold you out? What if this was all some ploy to get rid of you?"_

"_Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to for that. If Coffin wanted me gone, I'd be swimming with the fishes now."_

"_Maybe she just likes playing with you. Like a kitten plays with a ball of yarn. Or a mouse," she added pensively. "Either way, you'd end up shredded and Coffin would be an ever bigger fish in an already overcrowded pond."_

"_So what's your plan?"_

"_I hear Coffin has a soft spot for blondes," she shrugged. "And with access to his office…"_

"_No. Out of the question. You're not putting yourself in danger like that."_

"_You don't get a say in this, Derek. Like I said, this is my private time."_

"_I'll… I'll fire you," he blurted._

"_Go ahead. It's not like I won't make more money working at the club," she shrugged._

"_You must be the most infuriating woman I've ever come across," he huffed._

"_Clearly you've been missing out," she said cheekily and poured him a cup of coffee._

_He shook his head and ran a hand through his increasingly messy hair. "I guess so," he said and sighed deeply._

"_So I still have a job?" she said and held out the cup, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen._

"_As long as I still have a business, yes," he nodded and took the cup from her._


	6. Blah

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: FYI, we have now made a time jump. You can assume some amazing writing progress has been made in which the story has been propelled forward and this is where they are at now, several days later. This is all for you, Roi, btw. This story would not exist without your suggestion I turn Alex & Emma into a Delena fic : )_

_About this chapter's title… well, it's kind of how I'm feeling about my writing at the moment, and I'm taking it out on Damon… _

* * *

><p>WRITE TO LIVE<p>

~ Blah ~

* * *

><p>"<em>What happened tonight?"<em>

_Emma had gotten so used to seeing him waiting for her outside her door that she didn't even flinch at the question coming out of the darkness of her hallway. _

"_You really should stop showing up here, Derek."_

"_You called in sick two days in a row, Emma. Pretty stupid seeing how I can watch you on stage every night."_

"_You haven't come into the club all week, Derek," Emma rolled her eyes and unlocked her door. _

"_Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I wasn't there."_

"_Well, if you were there tonight, you'd know nothing happened," she shrugged and walked inside. _

"_I didn't mean on stage. I meant after. You didn't come out like you usually do," Derek said, helping her out of her coat. _

"_You're stalking me now?" Emma looked up at him over her shoulder, stepping away and leaving him holding her coat. _

"_Coffin is dangerous."_

"_Says Kitty Kat…"_

"_Don't tell me you've fallen for his charm," Derek scowled. _

"_Of course not. The man's a shark. Or a piranha."_

"_Piranha? Where did that come from?"_

"_He keeps piranhas… in his apartment," Emma added under her breath as she walked over to the kitchen. "Coffee?"_

"_No," Derek waived her offer of caffeine. "In his apartment? When were you in his apartment? _Why_ were you in his apartment?"_

"_Tonight. He invited the girls up for drinks after closing."_

"All_ the girls?"_

"_Yes, Kitty was there too."_

"_Did you talk to her?"_

"_Kitty Kat doesn't talk to other women, she glares and hisses," Emma said and flopped down on the couch with a glass of water. _

"_Did you find anything out?"_

"_You mean like the combination to his safe? No, not yet."_

"_You say that like you think you can get it."_

"_I'm sure I will."_

"_How?"_

"_Well, I've noticed how Coffin always locks the money in the safe directly after closing, counting it himself in his office. The only other person allowed in there when he does is Kitty."_

"_Kitty?"_

"_Yes. So I suspect she was indeed trying to set you up by getting you to break in."_

"_You don't know that, though. Just because she's allowed in his office while he's counting the money doesn't mean…"_

"Oh, please, she's totally messing with him and he's too blinded by his infatuation for her to see it," Elena exclaimed.

"Why are you so quick to think the worst of Kitty?" Damon sighed, leaning back against the couch with his arms behind his head.

"She's flirty and flighty and… I don't trust her."

"You think Derek should confront her?"

"I think he should drop the case altogether and help Emma's brother to get his life back on track."

"He can't drop the case! Emma's life is on stake here too!"

"How so?"

"You think Coffin won't put two and two together? Figure out she's on Smythe's payroll?"

"So he _does_ care about her…" Elena mused.

"Of course he cares."

"Good."

"You like Emma, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. I think she's resourceful and she doesn't use her body to get what she wants."

"Like Kitty?"

"Exactly."

"I need to use the bathroom. We'll continue when I get back, all right?" Damon said and got off the couch.

"Take your time, I'm gonna get another pot of coffee going," Elena said and headed into the small kitchen.

* * *

><p>The door to the bathroom had just closed when there was a knock on the door.<p>

"Damon? Someone's at the door," Elena called out, but received no response.

Another hard knock.

"All right, I'm coming," she called out and walked over to open the door.

"Well, hello there," a man drawled, looking her up and down. "Did Mr. Salvatore take on a roommate?"

"Uh… no, I'm his stenographer."

"Oh, stenographer, you say? A beautiful woman such as yourself?"

"I don't believe my appearance has any consequence to my line of work, Mr. …?"

"Oh, please, call me Nicholas," he said smoothly, extending his hand.

Elena reached out to shake it, but instead he brought her hand to her lips. "Enchanted to meet you Miss …?"

"Elena Gilbert."

"Elena…" he said as though he was tasting the name like a fine wine, sloshing it around before deciding whether to spit or swallow. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

"Thank you," Elena said and withdrew her hand. "Mr. Salvatore is indisposed at the moment. Would you care to wait?"

"Why, yes," he smirked, stepping past her into the apartment. That's when Elena noticed the two men behind him, looking very much like trouble. "Wait outside," he said over his shoulder and the two inclined their heads and stepped back, letting the door close behind him.

"So how do you know Damon… I mean, Mr. Salvatore?"

Nicholas smiled at the slip of her tongue. "_Damon_, is it? Have you known each other long?"

"I'm just here to help him type his novel."

"Oh. How's that going?"

"You'll have to ask _him_. He's the writer."

"Mr. Salvatore and I have mutual interests," the man said, cryptic, cracking his knuckles.

"Ok…" Elena said, moving over to the kitchen. "I was just getting some coffee, would you like some?"

"He's not staying," Damon's voice proclaimed, cold as ice.

"Mr. Salvatore… I just stopped by to check up on your progress, and I met this lovely lady," Nicholas smiled politely as he gestured to Elena.

"You'll have your money on the agreed date," Damon said in a clipped tone.

"I should hope so, Mr. Salvatore… or I will have to see to it that all _distractions_ are removed from your life," he said in a dangerous voice, casting a meaning glance at Elena.

"You have made your point," Damon said between clenched teeth.

"Very well, I shall leave you two young kids to create… well, whatever it is you create," he said and turned around. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Gilbert," he smiled at Elena before exiting the apartment.

"Damon, who was that?" Elena said in a whisper as soon as the door had closed.

"We should get back to work," Damon said and sat down on the couch.

"Damon!"

"We have less than a week left before I need to have this novel finished, Elena. There's no time to waste."

"You owe him money, don't you?" Elena said, sitting down with her stenotype.

"Who?"

"That guy who was just here. He's the one that's threatening to kill you, isn't he?"

"Yes. Now can we please get back to work?" Damon said in a clipped tone.

* * *

><p><em>It was late when Derek returned to his apartment. He and Emma had had the usual argument about her putting herself in danger, and as per usual, his well-laid arguments had fallen on deaf ears. <em>_He was surprised to find a distraught Kitty waiting for him. _

"_Derek!" she exclaimed when he approached her. "I've been so worried," she said and threw herself around his neck. _

"_Why?" he asked, enjoying the feel of her delicate arms enveloping him. _

"_I think Klaus suspects something."_

"_What? There's nothing to suspect."_

"_He's never let me into his office when he's counting the money before. I think he's testing me."_

"_Did he let you see the combination to his safe?"_

"_Yes. Klaus is a paranoid man, it doesn't make sense. I'm scared, Derek."_

"_We will sort this out, don't you worry," Derek said reassuringly, looking deep into her teary blue eyes. _

_Kitty sniffled and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "What will you do?" she looked up at him with wide eyes, her mouth puckered into a perfect pout._

"_I'll think of something," he promised. _

"_You know," she said seductively, a glimmer in her eyes, and trailed his chest with one of her long, perfectly manicured blood red nail, "if Klaus gets in trouble with the big boss, I will be all alone in the world."_

"_Not for long, Miss Kitty."_

"_Maybe…" she played with his top shirt button and looked up at him under dark lashes, "you would like to keep me company once he's gone?"_

"_Maybe," Derek swallowed thickly. _

"_Good," she said in a chipper voice and released him, heading towards the door. Derek was left staring after her, his mouth hanging open just a tad. He reached up to make sure he wasn't actually drooling. _

"You can't be serious!" Elena exclaimed.

"What?"

"She walks in, turn on the flirt and he's reduced to mush? What happened to confronting her?"

"Who said I was… who said he was going to confront her?"

"Well, it's what needs to happen. He should tell her to either be completely honest with him or walk away. He and Emma are in enough trouble already."

"He's just a man, Elena."

"Well, I think he could be a better man. If he would just stop to realize what's right in front of him."

"And what, pray tell, is right in front of him?"

"Emma."

"Sorry?"

"He clearly has feelings for her, and she's good for him. She challenges him and makes him step up his game."

Damon rose from the couch and walked over to the window, running a hand through his hair.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? My novel sucks, Elena, that's what's wrong! I can't think! Ugh!" he slammed his fist against the brick wall.

"Damon!" she ran up to him, taking his hand in hers. "Come on," she said and tugged on him.

"Where?"

"We're gonna get you cleaned up and we're going out."

"Out?"

"Yes, out. We've been cooped up in this apartment for three weeks, of course you're going stir crazy."

"Elena, we don't have time…"

"What we don't have time for is you being difficult," Elena said determined and pulled him into the bathroom. "Now, where do you keep the antiseptics and cotton balls?"

"Top shelf, right corner," he nodded towards the cabinet over the sink.

"Sit down," she gestured to the toilet.

"Bossy little thing, aren't you?"

"Please?" Elena tilted her head.

"Well, since you ask so nicely…"

Elena doused a cotton ball with antiseptics and started wiping at his knuckles. Damon winced as the liquid came in contact with his bruised skin.

"Baby…" Elena muttered, amused.

"Say that a little differently and we'll have a problem…" Damon wiggled his eyebrows. "Or, should I say, your boyfriend will have a problem…"

"There, all cleaned up," Elena said quickly and threw away the used cotton ball. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>"How long have you worked as a stenographer?" Damon asked as they were walking through the park, eating ice cream and enjoying the sunny day.<p>

"A couple of years now."

"Do you like it?"

"It pays the bills," Elena shrugged.

"But it's not what you really want to do with your life?" Damon guessed.

"I took English Lit in college, I wanted to be a writer. I just… didn't have it in me, I guess. So I settled for making my living in a profession which revolved around words. And I enjoy it. Most days," she said and sat down on a bench by the small pond in the park.

"Is that why you have such strong opinions about _my_ writing?" Damon said and sat down next to her.

"No. I mean, yes, writing interests me, but it's not that I think you're not good at it…"

"Gee, thanks," Damon chuckled and tapped her nose with his ice cream.

"Hey!" Elena cried out.

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist," Damon said sheepishly and grabbed a napkin to wipe it off. "There… all better?"

"Still sticky," Elena moped.

"Oh, pouty…" he mocked. "Here… let me help with that…" he said, leaning in, only to end up with an ice cream cone on his face.

"Now I feel better," Elena smirked and got off the bench.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that…" Damon said and went after her. Giggling, Elena dashed through the park, not caring that she was acting like a kid. She sprinted and made it all the way to Damon's apartment building before he caught up to her.

She squirmed as his arms locked around her waist and managed to reach the door to pull it open. A neighbor was just coming out and Damon let go, realizing the situation may look peculiar. Elena took the opportunity to slip inside and while Damon was stuck exchanging pleasantries with Mrs. Flowers, she made it up the stairs.

As the door was locked, she had no choice but to wait for him to come up, and she used this breathing time to catch her breath, and lower her heart rate. What was she doing? Why did she suddenly feel like a giddy school girl around him?

"Ok, you win," Damon threw up his hands as he took the last steps up the stairs.

"Yay! What's my price?" Elena joked.

"You, milady, get to help me wash this ice cream off," he smirked and unlocked the door.

"Yeah right," Elena rolled her eyes as she stepped into the apartment. "I think you're fully capable of handling that yourself."

"I don't know about that, maybe I…" Damon stopped mid-sentence. His joking smile fell and he looked as though he'd been struck by lightning. "That's it!" he exclaimed, overjoyed. "Thank you!"

Elena looked at him, puzzled.

"I know how to finish this story!"


	7. Wrapping Up

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>__: There'll be a couple of time jumps in the story – and in 'reality' (marked by line breaks), and there will be one more chapter/epilogue after this. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>WRITE TO LIVE<p>

~ Wrapping Up ~

* * *

><p><em>After<em>_ Kitty's visit, Derek found new determination. No matter what the cost, he would expose Coffin and end his reign of terror. Kitty would be free, Emma's brother's girl would be free, Emma wouldn't have to… Emma, Emma, Emma. Why did his thoughts keep straying to his secretary? Of course he wanted her to be safe, just like he all the citizens of Mystic Falls. She was one of the people he had vowed to protect when he got into the P.I. business. The crooks owned this town and the cops were all dirty. It fell on his shoulders to set things straight around here – starting with Klaus Coffin. _

* * *

><p>"<em>Coffin keeps to a routine," Emma informed him. "He takes his dinner in the back room of the club, an hour before the first act. He comes into the dressing room to check on the costumes right before the show. Then he goes into the club and inspects the guests, walking around to greet the regulars and check out any newcomers. Halfway through the night, Officer Joey drops by Coffin's office and always leaves with a smile and a stuffed pocket."<em>

"_Cops taking bribes," Derek noted drily, "what a surprise."_

"_Once Officer Joey leaves, Kitty goes on stage and she does her act. Coffin always watches from a seat right in front of the stage. Then after the club closes, she goes into the office with him and the rest of us go home."_

"_So he _always_ watches Kitty perform?" Derek frowned, a plan forming in his head._

"_Yes. Same spot every night."_

"_And you're backstage?"_

"_We're supposed to waitress, but I could fake a twisted ankle which would get me alone in the dressing room…"_

"_Aren't there guards?"_

"_Yes. Two beefcakes – Rico and Maze. But Rico likes to drink and Maze has a thing for me. They're easily distracted."_

_Derek shook his head. "No, it's too dangerous."_

"_Only one of them is backstage while Kitty's performing…"_

"_Is there any way I can sneak backstage without being noticed?"_

"_There's a narrow passage by the men's room. Rico or Maze are always on guard there. I can make sure they're not paying attention…"_

"_What about the combination to Coffin's safe?"_

"_I've got it."_

"_What? How?"_

"_There's an air vent that passes right by Coffin's office. I was able to climb in there when Rico was on watch. He had one too many drinks and fell asleep in his chair."_

"_You took a huge risk doing that, Emma…"_

"_Some things are worth the risk," Emma shrugged. "I believe _you're_ the one who told me that."_

"_I did? That was clever of me."_

"_It's a rarity. That's why I remembered it," Emma mocked. _

* * *

><p>"It's getting late," Damon said. "You look exhausted."<p>

"Thanks a lot. You're not looking so hot yourself," Elena stifled a yawn.

"We should take a break."

"No. Let's keep working. We don't have a lot of time left," Elena objected.

"It won't do either of us any good if we fall asleep of exhaustion. Come on, let's get a couple of hours of sleep and we'll finish the rest when we're well-rested," he said and rose from the couch, stretching.

"Uh… you can take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"This couch? You won't get any rest that way," Elena objected.

"Well, neither would you, so…"

"We can both sleep on the bed," Elena said casually and started climbing the latter to the loft.

Damon shrugged and followed her. "So… I guess we'll finally get to sleep together," he quipped.

Elena looked over her shoulder. "You're right, you should sleep on the couch," she scowled.

"Oh, come on, I was just making an observation. I believe it's the first time I've gone to bed with a woman just to sleep. Actually sleeping, I mean."

"Yeah, I got it," Elena mumbled and lay down on the mattress. "I'll set the alarm," she said and got out her cell phone. "Good night, Damon." She turned her back to him.

"Is it really 'good night' if we're not actually going to sleep the whole night?"

"Good night, Damon," she repeated sternly.

"Guess so," he sighed and lay down with his arms under his head.

"You know, you never told me your boyfriend's name," he said after a few minutes of awkward silence.

"I didn't?"

"No. He _has_ a name, hasn't he?"

"Of course he does."

"So… what is it?"

"It's… Edward. Edward… Cullen," Elena squeezed her eyes shut, her whole body tense as she held her breath.

"The guy on all the buses? The Discount Dentist?"

"Mm-hm."

"A little old for you, isn't he?"

"Damon…"

"I guess it makes sense, though… You have great teeth." He paused. "Then again, just because he's your boyfriend doesn't automatically make him your dentist…"

"Ok, fine!" Elena exclaimed and rolled over to face him, propped up on her elbow. "I lied! I don't have a boyfriend. But really, can you blame me? The way we met…"

"You don't have a boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend," she acknowledged in a softer voice.

"So if I kissed you right now, I wouldn't have to worry about some old guy coming after me with a scalpel?" Damon said, reaching out to push a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand coming to rest on her cheek.

"I don't think dentists use scalpels…" Elena mumbled but was quickly silenced by his lips on hers.

* * *

><p><em>With Coffin's tampered bookkeeping as a weapon, everything fell into place. The girls at Club Mystique were offered reasonable wages, with the option of quitting altogether. Anna chose the latter. Jeremy was also cleared of his debt and together they left Mystic Falls. <em>

_It was a rainy night when Derek went to see Kitty. Now that she was free of Klaus Coffin… well, let's just say he had an itch he was dying for her to scratch with her long, perfectly manicured, blood red nails._

_He knocked on her door and waited impatiently for her to answer it. When she did, he could tell there was something amiss. _

"_Derek, hi," she greeted him, flustered. _

"_Evening, Kitty," he said, lounging casually against the doorpost. _

"_Um… this is really not a good time…"_

_He stood up straight, looking into her apartment to see several suitcases. _

"_What's going on?" he narrowed his eyes and stepped past her into the apartment._

"_I'm going out of town for a bit…"_

"_You weren't going to tell me?"_

"_No, I was, but…"_

"_Hello, brother."_

_Derek swirled around to see a tall, dark blond man walking out of Kitty's bedroom, his hair messier than Derek had seen it in years. "Steven."_

"_It was Steven who recommended I go see you," Kitty explained, walking over to Steven to lovingly caress the smooth planes of his chest. _

"_I knew that if anyone could get Kitty out of her contract, it'd be you," Steven said with a smirk on his face. "Thanks, big brother."_

_Derek didn't know why he ended up on Emma's doorstep that same night, but he did. His hair and clothes were drenched from walking the streets in the pouring rain, and he was leaving a nice, big pool in the hallway. He had picked up a bottle of Scotch on the way, too, and now he was soaked inside _and_ out._

_She looked like a vision when she finally opened the door. _

"_Derek? What are you doing here so late? And why do you smell like you took a bath in a tub of liquor?"_

"_I had to see you, Emma," he said and pushed past her._

"_Why?" _

"_I went to see Kitty, and…"_

"_Stop right there," she held up a hand. "Let me guess, she double-crossed you."_

"_She never wanted me."_

"_Get out."_

"_What?" he blinked._

"_You think you can just show up here and…" he silenced her with a scorching kiss, his arms wrapping around her to hold her close and never let go. _

_But Emma had a mind of her own and pushed him away, issuing an equally scorching slap to his right cheek._

"_I said… Get. Out," she repeated, her jaw clenched. _

"_Emma, I…"_

"_You want to use me as some sort of substitute for _her_? I don't think so, Derek. I have feelings, too. You have no right to come here and… and mess with my head – or my heart. You made your bed when you chose to go to her and now you'll have to sleep on the floor. Goodnight, Derek," she said determined, hands on her hips and waited for him to sheepishly leave her apartment. _

_As Derek walked home that night, he pondered his life choices. He pondered his attraction to Kitty. He pondered his true feelings for Emma. When he was done pondering, he went back to his office and waited for the next long-stemmed dame to walk through the door. Maybe this time, she'd actually be offering something worth his trouble. THE END._

"So he ends up alone…" Elena said, leaning back against Damon's chest.

"Is it too sad?" Damon asked, kissing the top of her head.

"It's the only way it _can_ end. He never had a real chance with Kitty – who wasn't worth his time in the first place – and Emma, who was a real possibility… he made the wrong choice and it's only fair he suffer the consequences. Also, it opens a window to a sequel, so… good job," she smiled and looked up at him.

"Mm… what's my prize?" he wiggled his eyebrows at her, a flirtatious smile on his full, soft lips.

"You get paid," Elena said and moved to get up.

"Uh-uh," he objected, holding her back and flipping them over so that he was hovering above her. "Later," he said and started kissing her neck.

"Damon… we'll have all the time in the world for this once you've paid that creepy guy off, but for now, I need to type up these pages."

Damon pouted. "Oh, okay," he surrendered and rolled off her. "But I'm gonna need my shirt back," he tugged at the men's shirt that was currently covering her nakedness.

Elena had just left when Damon's phone rang.

"Hello? Kat? You're in town? No, don't come over. I'll meet you. The corner café tonight at seven? Ok, I'll see you then."

* * *

><p>Elena had just finished typing up the manuscript and was heading out the door when she remembered something and hurried over to her dresser to get a new pair of underwear. She stuffed them in her purse and grabbed her keys.<p>

"Damon," the dark-haired beauty greeted him, "it's good to see you," she purred and kissed his cheek.

"What brings you to town, Kat? How's Stefan?"

"Oh, it's over between us," she gestured to the waiter to refill her wine glass. "He's such a bore…"

"Well, _I_ could have told you that if I had known you were dating my brother while we were… whatever. Again, I ask, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you. Is that so bad?" Kat fluttered her long, dark lashes at him, her perfect mouth drawn into a seductive pout and her delicate hand caressed his thigh.

Damon pushed her hand away. "Yeah, it is."

"Oh…"

"Damon!"

"Elena! Hey, I didn't know you'd be done already. I was just about to head back to the apartment…"

"Well, I found you, so…" Elena said, her eyes fixed on the curly brunette at the small table.

"Oh, I'm sorry… Elena, this is Katherine. Kat, Elena's my… stenographer."

"Nice to meet you," Elena said coldly. "I've heard _so_ much about you."

Elena glared at Damon and shoved the stack of printed papers into his arms. "All done. Have a nice night, you two." With that, she turned on her heal and strode towards the bus stop.

"Elena! Elena, wait, I can explain…"

"Your _stenographer_? You introduced me as your _stenographer_?" Elena swirled around to face him.

"Well, I didn't know what to… I got confused."

"Yeah, I bet. It must be hard keeping fiction and reality separated. Especially when reality is looking a whole lot like fiction," she hissed.

"Elena…"

"You know what really sucks? Having to listen to you describing your lust for another woman and how I was nothing but a substitute – just like Emma. Except, with me, you actually got lucky. Hey, maybe you could use that for your next book – the mousy, slutty secretary who falls for her jerk of a boss. It has cliché written all over it! Should be a bestseller!" she scowled and jumped on the bus.

Damon was left staring at _Edward Cullen – Discount Dentist_'s pale, haggard face lined with perfect white teeth smiling at him as the bus drove off.


	8. Epilogue

_**Disclaimer**__: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

><p>WRITE TO LIVE<p>

~ Epilogue ~

* * *

><p>Elena checked the client's name - Ames, Kingsley, Austen &amp; Hardy. It was the same as Damon had used to lure her to his apartment in the first place. Who would have guessed there would be an actual law firm by the same name?<p>

As she entered the spacious lobby, she was greeted by a smiling receptionist. The large sign on the wall behind her said Ames, Kingsley, Austen & Hardy. Guess she was in the right place.

"Uh… I'm Elena Gilbert. I'm the stenographer."

"Right. Welcome. Mr. Ames will be with you shortly. If you'll please follow me…" the young woman rose from behind the reception desk and showed Elena into an empty conference room.

Elena set up her stenotype and waited for the door to open. When it did, she almost jumped out of her seat and strode out of there.

"Please, just hear me out…"

"You would think about fifty ignored calls would send someone the message that the person they're trying to reach doesn't want to talk to them," Elena huffed.

"I need your help. The ending's all wrong. My editor thinks it's fine, but I feel it's lacking something…"

"Damon…"

"Please… let me just get this out. When we're done, you can walk out that door and I won't bother you ever again, if that's what you want."

"Fine," Elena said and positioned her fingers.

_Emma didn't come into work the next day. Or the day after that. Derek tried calling her, but some other girl answered her phone and told him Emma had decided to quit. He asked this girl to pass on a message. Emma had to give three week's notice before she could leave. _

_He was rewarded with Emma's appearance the following day. She sat down at her desk and answered the phone, patching all of his father's calls through and generally making his day miserable. As five o'clock drew near, he was exhausted. _

"_Emma, could you come in here, please?" he called out and waited for the clicking of her heels against the floor. _

"_I was just getting ready to leave, Mr. Smythe," she said coolly. "Is there anything I can do for you?"_

"_You can start by calling me Derek again, Emma."_

"_I would rather not, Mr. Smythe."_

"_Emma, please… I'm sorry. I was a jerk."_

"_Yes. You were."_

"_I had been drinking, I didn't know what I was doing. Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?"_

"_No."_

"_Ok. Then… can we continue to work together? You're the best secretary I've had, Emma, and I would hate to lose you over something so stupid as my thickheadedness."_

"_Very well," she sighed deeply. "Will that be all?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Goodnight, Mr. Smythe."_

"_Goodnight, Emma."_

_With Emma back in his life, at least on a professional level, Derek's days seemed a little bit brighter. Then, one dark stormy night, a long-stemmed dame walked back into his office. _

"_Derek, I have been such a fool!" she exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms. _

_It was all he had wanted. Her soft body pressed against his, the scent of her hair filling his nostrils, her smooth skin against his cheek. Yet, there was something so wrong about this. He realized then that the things he had felt for Kitty Kat were as fake and shallow as her stage name. He pulled away, holding her at arm's length. _

"_I'm sorry, Miss Kat. I am not open for business at this time. Please come back tomorrow and make an appointment with my secretary."_

"_I don't want an appointment!" she spat. "I want _you_!"_

"_I'm sorry, Miss Kat. That is not the type of services we offer here. Perhaps one of the clubs will provide them for you."_

"_Derek!"_

"_Goodnight, Miss Kat," he said determined and waited for her to leave with her tail between her legs. So to speak. _

_As Derek sat back down in his chair in his now empty office, he felt at peace. He had come to realize that having Emma in his life, even if it was just professional, was worth more to him that a thousand Kitty Kats. He could, however, go for a Kit-Kat right about now… THE END._

"Elena. I'm sorry I messed up. Katherine means nothing to me. She has no place in my life anymore. I told her as much when I went back to the café. I don't want anyone other than you in my life."

"That's nice and all, Damon, but…" Elena rose from her chair.

"I'm thinking of writing another novel," he blurted.

"What will it be about?"

"This beautiful, talented stenographer that speaks her own mind and isn't afraid to call the jerk she works with out on his crap."

"Another failed attempt at comedy?"

"No. I'm thinking full-fledged romance."

"You don't write romance novels."

"Then I guess I'll be needing a stenographer that will keep me on the right track…" Damon smiled.

"Stenographers are hard to come by these days…"

"I happen to have someone in mind for the job…"

"Oh? Are you sure they're available? Or willing?"

"I'm prepared to beg."

"Begging is unbecoming."

"Then don't make me do it," he said and walked over to her, cupping her face with his hands. "Will you give me a chance?"

"Well… you _will_ most definitely be lost without my help…"

"Completely," he agreed.

"And I could probably give you some pointers…" she said pensively, looking into his eyes.

"Definitely."

Their lips were inches from meeting when Elena stopped. "Wait – whose office is this?"

"My editor's. He charged me a fortune for the sign, but it was worth it."

"But your next book… we'll be working out of your apartment, right?"

"Yep."

"Then we should get back there," Elena said and put her stenotype back in its case. "I seem to recall your inspiration flowed the best up on the loft…"

"It did indeed…" he said, content with her suggestive smile.

"Come on then," she said, grabbing her case and heading towards the door. She looked over her shoulder and winked. "We should get those creative juices flowing, don't you think?"

Damon was quick to heed her advice.

THE END


End file.
